


Surety of Promise

by Diary



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Bechdel Test Fail, Canon Disabled Character, F/M, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Jaime Lannister & Brienne of Tarth Friendship, Late Night Conversations, Minor Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Promises, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-29 02:15:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6354703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diary/pseuds/Diary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This isn’t a love confession.” Complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surety of Promise

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Game of Thrones.

“Pity him, my dashing warrior.”

Jumping slightly, Brienne looked over to see Lady Olenna Tyrell sitting next to her.

Reaching over, Lady Tyrell patted her hand and gave her a genuinely kind look before turning towards Jaime. “He won’t thank you for the pity, but there’s little else that can be done, is there?”

Wondering how to politely extract herself against someone who often had little use for politeness, Brienne offered, “The loss of Ser Jaime’s hand-”

“Bah,” Lady Tyrell said with a wave of her hand. “I don’t think so little of you that I’d believe you’d judge someone less for that. Crippleness is no judgement from any gods, only something mortals judge. Just as nature makes some red of hair and some black of skin, it makes some blind or deaf or dwarfen. Or accidents or cruelty happen. Look at that brother of his. He’s been disdainfully subdued as of late, but there was a time he could win people over as just our dear Renly could.”

Feeling a pang at the mention of Renly, Brienne nodded.

Hesitantly, she asked, “Why pity him, then?”

“Oh, so many reasons. He’ll always be judged, for one.”

“I owe Ser Jaime much, but I wouldn’t say he doesn’t deserve judgement for certain things. Although,” she carefully finished, “I’m sure there are also things he shouldn’t be judged for that he is.”

Lady Tyrell gave her a look she felt was all too-knowing and amused. “You’re a rare breed of honourable, my dear. Me? I’m not. His sister? The princess and youngest prince show there were plenty of perfectly decent Targaryens.”

While Brienne desperately looked around to ensure no one had heard Lady Tyrell, the lady in question continued, “Thank the gods, nothing but familial closeness ever happened between my little ones, but if it had, I would have told them not to let anyone find out, and for gods’ sakes, don’t risk bringing children in the world.”

“Lady Tyrell, this is not appropriate-”

“Oh, hush, my dear. No one cares what a batty old woman and a shy giantess are saying to one another.”

Against her will, Brienne found herself smiling.

“Now, not his sword hand or his sister. Some, including you, judge him for what he did to Brandon Stark. Well, I know, if he’d crippled or, worse, killed one of mine, he’d be dead, if I had to risk death or imprisonment myself to do it. But since he didn’t, I’ll be honest and say, if I felt the only way to keep my loved ones safe, I’d kill or cripple or otherwise destroy without much thought.”

Brienne stayed quiet.

If she had to, in order to save her father, she would, but then, she doubted he would ever do anything wrong enough it had to be kept secret in order to protect him.

“So, not that either. The mad king? I don’t know the circumstances, but with a title like that and a reputation to match, there’s no denying someone needed to do it. What colour of cloak the person wore has always seemed to be a frivolous thing more fit for fisherwives to chatter about than anything.”

“I’ll get to the point. I pity him because of both how he loves and how he looks.”

“I don’t understand,” Brienne said.

Lady Tyrell smiled. “He doesn’t love easily, and woe to anyone who operates on that assumption. No, he views most people as disposable. Some are interesting to him, and some, he might risk things to help them. But most are disposable. Yet, the few people who manage to touch his heart, they leave a mark that he’ll never be able to rid himself of. Whether they deserve it, whether they love him in turn or not, whether it gets him crippled or killed or put in other dreadful situations, there truly is very little, if anything, he wouldn’t do for them.”

“I’m sure most of the people he loves understand how precious this is,” Brienne said.

Shaking her head, Lady Tyrell smile turned pitying. “I know Tywin better than most. Jaime Lannister may be his prize, but he loves the strong, golden lion rather than the sweet boy he’s tried so hard to kill. Joanna- she loved him, and she would have been a good mother, but she’s dead, and though he might treasure them, the few memories he has of her are of little use. His sister?”

Brienne found herself uncomfortably curious to hear what would be said next.

“Well, I’ve had little to do with the Queen mother. But as for the others, the only one who truly understands is Tyrion. He loves his big brother just as fiercely, and he might doubt everyone else who shows him kindness, but he doesn’t doubt his brother’s love. As for the king, prince, and princess, I’m sure two of them love their uncle and have never doubted he loved them. They’ll probably never truly realise how much their father adores them and wishes to be a much greater part of their lives, however. Hmmp, I doubt even he lets himself realise how much he wants that.”

“Forgive me, but what do his looks have to do with this?”

“You’ve done nothing to warrant forgiveness, my dear,” Lady Tyrell cheerfully replied. “Look at him. Even with one hand, he’s handsome, strong, witty, and charming. He has a great deal of natural arrogance, too. Without meaning insult towards you, you don’t know what it’s like for such people to be flocked to.”

“No,” Brienne agreed, “I don’t.”

“Well, for people who aren’t such a rare mix of cynical and love-starved, it often serves them well, even after they get older.”

“I can imagine,” Brienne replied. She wondered how great a beauty Lady Tyrell must have been in her youth.

“When it comes to those who are, however-” Lady Tyrell paused for a moment. “He either believes that or wonders if every person he meets who shows an interest is only interested because of his looks, skills, and charms. He knows his brother will love him and care about his thoughts and feelings no matter what he looks like or what his abilities. I don’t know if he knows that about anyone else. And I don’t think the other people who he loves realise or care that he desperately needs to be convinced. It’s not as if anyone is going to take the time to explain all this to them, after all.”

“Look at sweet Prince Tommen,” she continued. “I tend to imagine there was a time Ser Jaime was much like him. Of course, at the time, Tywin would have worked hard to rid him of such delicate sweetness, but I imagine, now, Tywin will appreciate such qualities in his grandson.”

Brienne looked over and saw Jaime had moved over to where the prince was playing on the grass with a kitten. Kneeling down, Jaime appeared to be listening intently as the little boy talked.

“Right,” she said. “If you’ll excuse me, Lady Tyrell.”

“Of course, but please, do get back in time for the bedding ceremony. You must ensure no one is too fresh with my granddaughter, since it appears my grandson has disappeared with Prince Oberyn and that delightful sand woman.”

Brienne briefly considered pointing out other women weren’t supposed to be part of the bride’s bedding ceremony, but the idea of someone getting too fresh with the kind Queen Margaery- She’d forcibly insist on being part of it if anyone made a fuss.

“I will, my lady,” she promised.

Patting her hand, Lady Tyrell nodded. “Good.”

…

Brienne wandered around until she saw the prince pick up his kitten and trot over to where Tyrion and Lady Sansa were talking.

Jaime had promised to extract the girl from his brother after the wedding celebrations were over. For right now, however, she looked well enough as she fed the kitten while Tyrion listened with the same rapt attention Jaime had shown to the little prince.

Noticing Jaime was watching them, too, their eyes caught, and he gave her a small nod.

Walking over, she told him, “This has nothing to do with Lady Sansa. Could you and I talk in private for a moment?”

Giving her a surprised look, he nodded. “Of course, my lady. Let’s go to the stables to see that horse that’s taken such a shine to you.”

She smiled at the mention of the affectionate, beautiful white mare.

…

While the mare happily munched on the bananas Jaime had snuck into the barn, she took a breath.

“This isn’t a love confession.”

She winced and was thankful his only reaction was an understandably bemused look.

“I wanted to make that clear,” she continued. “Although, I’m aware most people probably wouldn’t need to.”

Part of her told herself to extract herself rather than continue. She knew Jaime cared about her to some extent, but she also knew she was no doubt one of the disposable ones.

“You and I have been through a lot together, and when I leave with Lady Sansa, we may never see one another again. I wanted you to know- I’m grateful for what you’ve done for me, and I hope you’re well after I leave. I want that for you.”

She realised, overall, this wasn’t exactly the declaration of friendship she intended.

“Thank you,” he said in an odd tone.

“Renly was one of the few people who were kind to me when I was growing, and even then, he was my king, not my friend,” she blurted out. “Of course, there was my father, but I’ve rarely come across people I’ve become close to. Therefore, I’ve never had much practise letting people I care about know that. But putting aside our shared vow to Lady Catelyn, I do care about you.”

The smile on his face made her heart lurch painfully. Then, he said with a voice full of true sincerity, “Thank you, Brienne. I hope you know it’s the same with me towards you.”

She nodded and turned to pet the mare.

If this wasn’t enough, she was sorry for both of them, but she didn’t know what more she could possibly do.

She jumped when he touched her hand.

“Come now, don’t be so shy. You’ve held me naked. I hope, once you deliver Sansa to safety, we will see one another again.”

Turning back, she answered, “So do I. Perhaps, if your name truly hasn’t been overpraised, you’ll finally be able to beat me.”

“On the bridge, I was in chains and had been sitting in my own-”

“Excuses,” she interjected.

He made a face. “You didn’t actually win. We were interrupted.”

“Tell yourself that,” she advised.

He laughed. “Want to help me practise, now, my lady?”

“Sorry. Normally, I’d say yes,” she answered. “But I’ve promised Lady Olenna Tyrell I’d be part of Queen Margarey’s bedding ceremony and ensure no man overstepped.”

“Should we get back, then,” he asked with his arm offered.

Hesitantly, she took it.

…

Outside her chamber, Lady Tyrell sighed. “Thank you for escorting us. Now, go along, dear. As much as I enjoy your company, Loras and I need to comfort my granddaughter. He’ll protect us if need be.”

She bowed. “Yes, my lady.”

Once Lady Tyrell was inside and the door was closed, she wandered away.

Someone killed Joffrey at his own wedding feast.

Worse, they did it via his goblet, and she can’t help but remember how she’d more than once seen both Margaery and Loras eat and drink from Renly’s plate and goblet. If Margaery had-

She didn’t believe it was Tyrion, and she certainly didn’t believe it was the missing Sansa.

Seven help and protect her, wherever she is, Brienne prayed. Allow me to find her and shield her.

Stopping, she realised she was seeing Jaime sitting against the wall near the palace sept.

He looked up and saw her. “Cersei needs to be alone right now.”

Seeing some nearby gold cloaks, she nodded and leaned down. “Come with me.”

She couldn’t begrudge a grieving mother, but she knew the last thing Jaime needed was to be alone. She wasn’t sure what she could do and sent up another prayer for guidance.

He wordlessly followed.

Finding themselves in a large room full of books, she hoped it was meant to be an open room for all castle inhabitants and guided him to a chair. “Do you- I could get you something to eat or drink,” she offered.

She almost suggested they sneak him into the dungeons, but she wasn’t sure how he’d react.

Shaking his head, he looked at her with painfully blank eyes. “He wasn’t a good king, and he was a worse person. That’s what Cersei and I made, and this is what happened to it.”

Sitting down, she forced herself to be as still as possible. “A seventeen-year-old was killed at his own wedding feast, and he was your son. I- I really don’t think you can avoid your grief and anger over this.”

“But that’s the thing,” he said with a hurt, bewildered look in his eyes, “I’m not angry. I should be, though, shouldn’t I?”

“What do you feel,” she gently asked.

His laugh was broken. “Someone like him- the good die young. He wasn’t supposed to. Sometimes, I wondered if he might truly be Robert’s son. But he’s gone, I didn’t know him enough to miss him, and I want him back, but- most of all, I’m worried about Cersei and Tommen and Myrcella and Tyrion. Cersei isn’t going to take this well, and our little brother might pay too deeply. Poor Myrcella shouldn’t have to hear about this in a foreign land. And Tommen, he saw too much.”

“If there is anything I can do to help with any of this, I will,” she told him.

He moved quicker than she could fully take in, and-

When she felt his golden hand pressing against her, the sensations lessened enough for her to realise-

She’d only ever been kissed once in her life, and it was absolutely nothing like this was.

Wedging a hand between them, she pushed against his chest and moved back. “No, Jaime. I’ll stay with you for as long as you need, but no.”

“Forgive me,” he muttered as he stumbled away. “What kind of man-”

Reaching over, she grabbed him. “One who is under tremendous stress. You haven’t hurt or offended me, and I’m sure, if you told her, your sister would forgive such a small lapse given the horrible tragedy you’ve both suffered.”

His laugh was an ugly thing. “I don’t know-”

Suddenly, he clung to her and wept.

She eased him into the chair and wrapped her arms around him.

…

“I need sleep,” he hoarsely muttered.

“Alright,” she said. “I’ll take you to your room. Where is it?”

“That wouldn’t be appropriate, my lady,” he said in a tone she couldn’t quite place. “People will talk.”

“If you want me to summon someone, I will, but you’re not going alone.”

“Lead the way, then.”

“I don’t know where it is,” she reminded him.

“Right,” he sighed. “This way.”

…

Jaime barely managed to stop himself from sighing when Olenna Tyrell sat down next to him in the gardens.

“After what happened to my grandson-in-law, I find myself increasingly worried for my granddaughter,” she announced. “Why have you been asking to talk to her?”

“King Joffrey was my nephew,” he pointed out. “What exactly worries you about me speaking to your granddaughter?”

She gave him a sharp look. “Everyone but your dear sister knows your brother didn’t do this. Personally, I laugh at the thought Sansa Stark would have the intelligence, let alone the guts, to do such a thing, but others don’t. Margery adores that girl, and I’m sure there are already whispers about your boy marrying into a family who fought for Renly.”

“I need Lady Brienne to do something for me,” he said. “And she’ll need some proper armour. I was wondering if your granddaughter might be able and willing to-”

“Of course,” she interrupted. “No need to bore me with the details. Your- whatever she is another one Margery adores. She even considered offering to broker a marriage between-”

“Marriage!”

“Don’t interrupt,” she scolded. “And yes, she and I thought it’d be nice to have such a wonderful addition to our family. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out. More’s the pity. Anyway, we’ll be happy to help get her some appropriate armour. Though, whatever she’s doing for you, I’ll simply pray it’s enough to stave away her untimely death.”

“Ah, yes,” he said. “The rose pricks the lion with her mistrust and veiled words.”

“If I wanted to prick you, I would bring up your sister, her dead son, or Aerys Targaryen,” she answered. “I don’t. Whatever he was, Joffrey was part of your family, and I do genuinely sympathise with your pain. My sympathy, however, doesn’t make me blind to your faults. Sweet Brienne seems to be falling into a nasty habit of falling in love with men who’ve shown her kindness and already belong to someone unsuitable. The least she could do would be to try to get something from them rather than just be content to fight and die for them.”

He found himself unable to respond.

“It’s good of you not to deny it, at least. I imagine Renly would have.”

“Brienne doesn’t hate me as she once did. To say she’s in love-”

“Oh, gods, you are trying to deny it. Very well.”

She started to rise, and he put his hand around her wrist. “I’m not trying to deny anything. I’m not entirely sure I understand you correctly.”

“Not much to understand, really. You think you can give her some armour, send her off, and she’ll happily trot away.”

“If she finds the quest honourable,” he answered.

“You’re a one-handed kingslayer whose nephew-son perfected sadism to an art form. She’d have to love you to think any quest you had in mind was honourable. Good day.”

…

“I’ve never asked you to lie,” Jaime started.

Brienne looked over from the white horse eating out of her palm. “Yes, you have. Don’t you remember that time-”

“Brienne,” he huffed out. “Fine, when we were on our journey, for the sake of our lives, you and I both lied on occasion. There might have been a time when I asked or suggested you do so. But since- the bath, I haven’t, have I?”

“No,” she answered.

“I’m going to ask you to make a promise, and even knowing you might not be able to fulfil it, I want you to promise me.”

“You know that I would never-”

“Here’s what’s going to happen if you don’t: I’m going to come with you. The realm needs me here, and I’m still not as strong as I once was, but I will risk myself and the realm if you don’t.”

She glared. “Do you think me unable to stop you? I can, and I would.”

“Just- I want you to promise me that you’ll survive. After you do your duty towards Lady Stark, you’ll still be alive. Don’t give me, ‘I’ll try,’ or, ‘If I possibly can,’ or anything like that. We both know you might die. We both know you might fail. I’m still asking that you promise me you won’t die.”

“What would be the good in that?”

He let out a somewhat harsh laugh. “Renly didn’t promise, ‘I’ll try to be a good king.’ It was, ‘I will be the king the seven kingdoms needs.’ You and the others didn’t say, ‘May he live a long life.’ You said, ‘Long live, King Renly.’ Because that sort of surety was necessary for everyone’s sake.”

She was quiet for a long moment.

Then, she caught his eyes with hers. “I will find both of the Stark girls and deliver them to safety, and then, I will meet you again, Jaime Lannister. We’ll finally see who is the best with their sword.”

Letting out a shaky breath, he nodded. “Thank you, my lady.”

She gave him a small smile before continuing to feed and pet the horse.


End file.
